


Cyanide

by Peach_oniisan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Come Sharing, Devotion, Eruri Week 2016, Knifeplay, M/M, Mild Blood, Oral Sex, Vintage Cock Ring, god these tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:17:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6071863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peach_oniisan/pseuds/Peach_oniisan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a pulsing red trail he illustrates trust and devotion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cyanide

You taught him, and taught him well.

Gorgeously spread out on display, you are an idol brought down to be tainted. The leather harness of your battle gear makes too convenient a restraint around your wrists, and he yields his dominance upon you like he was born with the world between his fingers.

You know he kept his boots on to make his steps heavy. Levi circles the bed, admiring your body bound and defenseless. The leather straps are a spider’s embrace, each knot adorned with flowers he picked himself for this special day.

Behind your blindfold he’s an intangible shade. You cannot see him, cannot move. You try to resist but instinct will make you struggle against your bonds; make your lips part in a kind of agony, if only to taste the air around him. Your heartbeat grows frenetic with every knock of his heels on the hardwood, and when he talks close to your ear, your senses are filled with the scent of fresh soap and desire unrelenting. Unlike you, he doesn’t favour cologne.

“You will only speak when spoken to,” he says in a manner entirely borrowed from you, and his voice grows more terrifying the lower it goes. Words are the jewels on your crown, your weapon and your weakness. On this night, though, your mouth is there for a different purpose.

He pulls off your bolo tie; your military insignia, your symbol of authority over him. His movements are deliberate and measured. His breath leaves a caress across aroused pink nipples and the damp hair of your chest, but his fingertips only ghost over you. When he takes his uniform gloves off he’ll make it slow enough for you to know, to savour the anticipation before his nails clink on the side of a vial.

“A gift for you, Erwin. Do you know what it is?”

You do. The oil is hot with a fragrance of almonds; sweet and nostalgic and reminiscent of a certain poison. You saw him heat it over the fireplace, and when the bottle tilts over your naked skin, the burn is just enough to make you heave without screaming. Golden rivulets trickle into the cut of old muscles and scars, mixing with fresh sweat. He won’t touch you until your body is begging, and you won’t see it, but you know his eyes will gleam in satisfaction at the sight of your cock twitching. He’ll praise you quietly, tracing the swollen outline of your erection over your trousers, while his other hand begins to massage the oil into your chest.  

He’s being deliberately, infuriatingly gentle when all you crave is to be handled like his sword; to be worn down and loved harshly; to be used and abused beyond breaking.

_Levi. Levi._

His name is a hot coal in your mouth, yet you are not allowed to say it. Not until he’s deemed you worthy of the honour; not until he’s had his fill of your sighs. You are only allowed the pleasures he gives you.

The massage leaves you out of breath, overheated, and your senses so heightened that when he opens the window you can almost hear the sound of snow falling. “Do you remember this?” he will ask, patiently waiting for your answer, as cold metal steals a kiss from your lips.

A knife, left on the windowsill to take on the taste of winter. On your scorching flesh, even the blunt of it bites like a fang. From the way he drags it along the line of your jaw, you realise it’s the lowborn blade he once planned to kill you with.

“I remember.” Your composure is on par with your military rank. A lantern flickers on your side and the steel gleams. Levi smiles. You should always remember how your love was stitched from the guts of monsters.

“Good.”

His voice is less than a whisper. Praise trickles thick as honey inside your ear and he pours more of it, sweet and bitter and almost unintelligible, until he can see you shivering. You can feel him speak more than you hear him, and the bed creaks under his weight as he comes closer.

You are ready to be devoured.

You hold on to dignity with the last of your strength, and he can see how the threads of it are tight around your throat, your limbs, strung high enough to make music. Tempting as it to play you like an instrument, he’ll instead slide his knife through the rest of your clothes; the sweat-soaked shreds harshly ripped from your skin to join a pile of fabric on the floor. He’ll make sure you can hear yourself being stripped down to nothing.

The blade under your chin will force you to lift your head, expose your neck. On your bottom lip it will draw a bloody blossom for him to suck on, before his tongue seeks out your own. He’ll kiss you like he owns you, because on this night he does. He’ll bite and sigh and leave a bouquet of bruises across your neck as a present, to make you wear your collar high and think of him, until they fade away.

The threat of pain will guide you to spread your legs, then spread them even further. On a pulsing red trail he illustrates trust and devotion, drawing together wounds both old and new. The knife caresses parts of you where the wrong move would be death; your heaving abdomen, your throat, the inner corner of your eye. But this is you merely switching roles for the night, as he is usually the one to place his life in your command. When he makes you lick the blade, it tastes of copper and ashes, and you realise then that he kept it sharpened throughout all these years.

For a moment you wonder how it would feel to meet your end on his bed. Caught in this small insanity, you think it doesn’t sound like a bad way to go.

“Do you want release, Erwin?”

His mouth finds the inner part of your thigh, breathing close to the leather ring that chokes the base of your cock. From his tone you know that you are not allowed to speak. You can only respond with your body, for here in this room you are nothing but a plaything and you will learn to serve his whims.

_Please._

Muscles forged in iron and blood writhe within your restraints. Levi is patient, disciplined. He works you open with oiled fingers and the threat of death in his left hand, tracing the seams that hold you together. When his mouth closes around you, it is all consuming, and in time he will cut you free of the leather harness and the last of your shame. He draws your orgasm out in long, indulgent licks. Unable to see, you cannot even understand how he can take in so much without gagging.

You come once, twice. A blur that leaves you both with a sore throat. He keeps a small mouthful of semen to flavour the last kiss of the evening, and with a firm voice he orders you to swallow.

“You are so beautiful.”

Once the knife is left to rest on the bedside, warmed from your lovemaking, his voice softens. He pushes aside your matted hair and the blindfold is set loose. Blonde eyelashes flutter open.

"How are you feeling? Nod for me if all is well.”

You do. With a wet cloth he dabs the sweat from your forehead, the clotting blood on the edge of fresh cuts. Broken flowers and a set of ruined clothes adorn the floor. Levi pours you a cup of watered wine, and you know there is a hot bath waiting for you in the next room. Your own bed is already made with freshly laundered sheets. Until sunrise, you have nothing to anticipate but rest and silence.

“Good,” he says for the second time that night, and pops open the buttons of his sleeves. With a hint of something unspoken, the word carries a very different meaning.

“Happy anniversary, Erwin.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the last day of Canonverse Eruri Week 2016, first & last prompts merged together in this monstrosity. Comments are very welcome ♡


End file.
